


Goodbye my friend, will I ever love again?

by CandiceWright



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Character Death, Episode: s05e12-13 The Diamond of the Day, Episode: s05e13 The Diamond of the Day, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Inspired by Art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:54:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21937780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandiceWright/pseuds/CandiceWright
Summary: Goodbye my friend, will I ever love again?Memories made in the coldest winter...
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	Goodbye my friend, will I ever love again?

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Memories Made in the Coldest Winter [ART]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21938023) by [fictionalinfinity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalinfinity/pseuds/fictionalinfinity). 



> A little fic to accompany Madalyn's wonderful art! Happy Holidays and Happy 7 tear anniversary everyone!

The last time Merlin ever remembered being that cold was last winter. Arthur had decided to go out to hunt (though that was probably an excuse to get away from his duties for a while). Not even Gwen bad accompanied them. It had just been Merlin and Arthur, like in the old times when things were less complicated, when they hadn't been weighed down by a path of death and betrayal. That day, they had been surprised by a snowstorm that had made it impossible to return to Camelot when they had been intending to. But the truth was that neither of them had really cared. They had made some precious memories, attacking each other with snowballs and laying together by the warmth of the fire. Arthur had even opened up and said that he wished it could forever be like that, just the two of them against the world. Then, the cold the snow had brought hadn't mattered.

Now Merlin felt that bone-chilling cold again. But this time, it came with an overwhelming emptiness. He'd lost that warmth the fire had once provided him, it was on the other side of the lake, dead, with his king. Everything worth living for had disappeared through the touch of his fingertips to the cold body of his friend as he dragged him through the clearing towards the boat. There, he had laid him down and dressed him, though this time there were no teasing remarks about his speed or snarky comments about his incompetence and Merlin thought he must hate himself because all he wished was to be insulted by him again. He had carried the burden of his body dressed in finery to the boat, the memory of his last words still a fresh wound in his heart. Because, what had he done to be thanked so genuinely? He had failed him, he'd let him die. Now he was left alone. _Alone. It can't be. You can't be gone, you can't, you're not._

"Arthur," he said brokenly as he held him for the last time, for the _last time._

Cold. He was cold. Who knew being cold could hurt so much? 

He pushed the wooden boat into the water and saw how it disappeared into the distance.

He cried. Of course, he cried. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst came after. Because after he'd been crying for hours he found that he could cry no more and he was left alone to his thoughts, by a shore that had once been theirs and now was a realm of ghosts. Now he knew what the dragon had meant when he'd said they were two halves of a whole, for it truly felt like his heart had been ripped in half, leaving him eternally bleeding out, unable to quite die, but never truly alive.

To think of returning to Camelot now was mere torture. He had people he cared for there; Gaius, Gwen, Gwaine. But thinking of caring about someone else only reminded him of the dark feeling in the pit of his stomach, of that little parasite of grief that was slowly eating his insides, leaving him open for the crows to feast on. He hoped, _oh how he hoped,_ it wouldn't always be like that, that he would be able to stand up, to live his life again. 

But, for now, the cold paralyzed him, and he wondered if one could freeze from sorrow.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Memories Made in the Coldest Winter [ART]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21938023) by [fictionalinfinity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalinfinity/pseuds/fictionalinfinity)




End file.
